I do
by steffy2106
Summary: Mycroft is about to face the biggest challenge in his life…witnessing Molly's wedding. Can he just sit there watching the only woman he ever cared for binding her life to someone else or shall he just stay away? A cornelian dilemma which might just turn out to be the end of the Ice man.


**A.N: **Hey guys!

This is a one shot i got inspired for after watching the Grey's anatomy episode of April's wedding. I hope you are going to enjoy it. Just leave me a little review with your thoughts.

Also this might be my last fanfic for a little while but i will come back one day.

Love you all

Steffy.

**Title: I do**

"I won't come, " Mycroft whispered in his phone, while nursing a glass of scotch.

"Mycroft don't do that." Molly whimpered in the other end of the line.

"I'm not doing anything." He tried to keep his voice as emotionless as possible.

"You said you were fine with it, that it was what you wanted."

Mycroft looked out the window for a few seconds, to the snow falling down, covering his topiaries. "I know, and I'm fine with it but you know how I am with weddings. I do not enjoy crowds. It's nothing personal. I didn't go to the Watsons' wedding either."

"Yes but they're not me ,Mycroft." Her hurt was evident in her voice.

_No, they weren't. Nobody else is you and that's what makes it even more difficult_, Mycroft thought.

"I'm busy, Molly. There's a crisis brewing."

"On a Saturday?"

"You know perfectly well that troubles never keep to a schedule." He remembered the numerous times he had let her down when they were dating, the disappointment and hurt in her eyes. He had to let her go; she deserved so much more than he had been willing to give her.

"But it's my wedding, Mycroft."

Mycroft closed his eyes. He could see it in his head: her walking down the aisle in her glorious white dress to meet a man that was not half good enough for her. The thought alone was making his stomach heave.

He had left her, told her to move on, that they could only be friends. He had lied, told her that as much as he cared, he really felt nothing for her.

He had stayed away from her for months after that, watching her from the shadows. It had probably been the hardest thing he had ever done and when she had met that stupid man and grew attached, he hadn't been able to stop himself from entering her life again even if it was only as a friend.

Mycroft had regretfully realized that she seemed happy and when the stupid man asked her to marry him, he just swallowed his own feelings and pushed her away one last time.

"_He asked me to marry him," Molly said upon entering his office. _

"_Ah. I guess congratulations are in order." He tried to keep his face emotionless._

"_Are you?" She sat across him, looking for any sign of emotion. _

"_Am I what?" _

"_Congratulating me?"_

"_Well of course!" Mycroft smiled and he knew it looked particularly sincere. He had become a master ay hiding his feelings, of detaching himself from situations. He mastered micro-expressions and today was no exception. _

_She nodded, biting her bottom lip as was her habit whenever she was in deep doubt. _

"_What is it? I'm sure that's not the only reason you came." _

"_Is there—" She took a deep breath. "I love Tom, Mycroft, I really do but— " _

_Mycroft kept his smile on but was gritting his teeth so hard he thought he was going to shatter them._

"_Is there any reason why I shouldn't marry Tom?" And he could see in her eyes that, against all odds a small part of her had still hoped for him._

"_Well there are a lot of reasons to consider, such as children's education or tax implications obviously and …"_

"_No," she shook her head. "No I am wondering if __**you **__could think of any reason why I shouldn't marry Tom."_

"_Oh! Well no of course not! I am thrilled for you." He pressed his intercom. "Sally? Please try to find me a bottle of champagne. We have something to celebrate." _

_Mycroft didn't miss the hurt and doubt in her face, and he knew it was his fault. It has always been his fault. _

Mycroft had been eaten with doubts since they had broken up, since she got involved with that Tom. He had met him twice and hadn't been impressed. He was not good enough for Molly. But who was after all? Certainly not himself.

"Do you really want me there?"

"Yes, I really do."

Mycroft nodded to himself. One more sacrifice – maybe that was what he needed. Seeing her getting married to another man. That might help him go forward and move on.

She obviously had moved on because he had pushed her to it. Now was his turn.

"I will be there," He replied, his voice deeper than usual.

* * *

Mycroft changed his mind about 10 times during that night and he could barely believe that he was now standing in front of a church filling with people he didn't even know.

"So you came?" Sherlock stated, standing beside Mycroft looking at the people going up the stairs.

"I suppose I did."

"I thought weddings were a drag that you didn't want to impose on yourself."

"Correct, but this is Molly we are talking about. It's different. She's a friend." Mycroft added and using the word _friend_ for Molly did feel wrong. It felt like talking with pebbles in his mouth.

Sherlock chuckled. "Is it how you call it, Mycroft? Friend? I expected some drama but I guess this wedding will be blah after all." He took a few steps and turned around just before going up the stairs. "You know, she doesn't have to marry the cabbage. One word is all it would take."

Mycroft frowned. "I don't know what you're talking about."

There was no way Sherlock knew about them. They broke up even before Sherlock 'resurrected' himself.

His brother gave Mycroft a knowing smile. "Well I guess that for once, _**I AM**_ the smart one."

It took Mycroft a few more minutes before he finally entered the church. He sat on the last bench keeping his eyes on Tom who was standing by the altar joking with his best man.

_Maybe I could send the CO19 here and—_ Mycroft shook his head. No he wouldn't ruin her day. He was here for her, nothing else. He took a deep breath and thanked his luck as his phone started to vibrate in his jacket pocket.

He quickly exited the church by the side door. It was his PA giving him a quick update on a very sensitive file.

"I don't think I will stay for the reception. Please tell the Prime Minister… " Mycroft looked up and froze. Molly was standing in front of him in her wedding dress; her hair held up in a very high bun which revealed her graceful neck. She looked like an angel, his angel.

She gave him a small smile and it almost brought him to his knees.

"I have to go." He told his PA, not even sure of what she was saying anymore. He was lost in Molly's chocolate brown eyes.

"So, what do you think?" She asked softly when he put his phone back in his pocket. "I am pretty enough?"

He opened his mouth to say what he was supposed to say, that she looked nice, that she was a pretty bride.

"Don't marry him." He heard himself whisper.

"What?"

"Don't – Don't marry him." Mycroft pleaded louder now. "He is not right for you, he never will be. I'm the one for you Molly. My edges might be rough, I might not look like much but I'm yours."

Mycroft had never been more confident and sure of his words as he was at that moment. Pushing her away had never been the solution. He thought he was doing it for her when in fact he had been doing it for him. He loved her and this had been not acceptable but he knew that letting her marry someone else was not an option he could live with, not when he hadn't spoken his feelings out loud.

He could remember his grandmother telling him when he let his ego get in the way of him. She used to tell him back in the day, '_The choice that you make might be mistakes but it's never too late to turn around' _and seeing Molly in this dress, about to bind her life to a man who wasn't him, he realized he had made the biggest mistake of all.

"My car is parked here." He said pointing to the side exit a few steps away from him. "Just take my hand." He extended his hand toward her.

"How can you do that to me?" Molly asked, voice wavering with anger and eyes glistening with tears.

"Today of all days, with my perfectly fine fiancé who loves me and wants to spend the rest of his life with me, waiting by the altar. Mycroft, of all the cruel things I could have imagined you doing, I never thought you could be THIS cruel."

Her words hurt, mostly because they were true. What he was doing to her was cruel and selfish but he just had to do it before it was too late.

"I didn't know it before, or maybe I did but I refused to see it. The thing is, Molly, I know why I didn't want to come. I didn't want to see the biggest mistake of my life unravel before my eyes. Of all the things I did, of all the things that happened, I would change just one thing and that was pushing you away."

"Please Mycroft," Molly started, quickly drying the treacherous single tear that escaped her eye.

"I love you, Molly." He admitted. "I love everything about you. I love the different ways you smile depending on the situation. I love how fierce and fearless you are when the people you love are in danger. I love your soft snoring when you're tired. I love how you snort when you laugh and I love that you're making me want to be a better man, that you never went easy on me and that you always told me when I was out of line. Molly, I am desperately in love with you."

Molly let out a tearless sob, resting her hand on her chest. "I can't—"

"Yes, yes you can. Tell me where you want to go and we can leave right now. Bali? Tahiti? Japan? Just say the word. I'll marry you if it's what you want, we'll have babies, and a dog and a house full of your ridiculously ugly butterfly art. Anything, Molly, as long as you chose me."

"Ready, love?"

Both looked startled at the man standing at the threshold of the church.

Mycroft recognized him as Molly's uncle even if he had never formally met him before.

Her uncle took in Molly's distress and glared at Mycroft.

"What's going on here?"

Mycroft turned toward Molly again.

"Please," he mouthed, which was certainly not a word he used often. He extended his hand again.

She looked at him for what seemed like forever but couldn't have been more than a few seconds. She was going to take his hand, he was sure of it. So sure he could already feel her soft cool skin against his calloused hand.

"No." She replied her voice breaking. "It's too late, much too late."

He let his hand fall heavily to his side, numbed and shocked to have been wrong. He was never wrong.

Molly turned toward her uncle, smoothing her dress with her hands. "Yes, let's go." She walked toward him and took his arm.

He looked at her walking slowly down the aisle and each step she was taking was like a knife through his heart.

When she reached the altar and turned toward her fiancé, Mycroft reached for his phone before exiting the church briskly.

"My previous engagement has been cancelled. Please tell the Prime Minister I am on my way."

* * *

Mycroft looked at the clock on the wall. It was 4 pm, and Molly was probably married by now.

His phone vibrated - a text from Sherlock.

_Spectacular wedding, too bad you missed it. Here is a video for you to enjoy - SH _

Mycroft gripped his phone he could have broken it. Leave it to his brother to find a chink in his armour and use it.

"Do you think this is a solution we could at least investigate?" The Prime Minister asked him.

Mycroft concentrated on the man in front of him, realizing he hadn't heard a word the Prime Minister said. "Well yes, but I will need to regroup and see which option is the most viable for the country and the Queen."

"But I do believe—"

"No offence sir, but you are not a war strategist. I am."

At the same moment, Mycroft heard some commotion in the corridor and the muffled voice of his secretary before his door flew open

The guard in the room reached for his gun.

"No!" Mycroft shouted, raising his hand toward the guard. "She is welcome here. Molly?"

Mycroft took in her appearance. She was breathless, her cheeks flushed and her bun had fallen. These, in addition with the dark stains at the bottom of her wedding dress, clearly showed she had run on foot here.

He scanned her, trying to see any wound.

"What did you have to do that?!" She exclaimed half way between a cry and a sob. "You destroyed my life, Mycroft. You destroyed _**me**_."

"I think I should go. " The Prime Minister said, visibly very embarrassed.

Molly turned her head and did a double take, flushing even redder.

Mycroft nodded kept his eyes on Molly, trying to see her left hand. "Yes, I think it's for the best."

Once the Prime Minister left, Molly sat heavily on the sofa and he noticed her bare feet, dirty and cut from her run through London's streets.

"Get me some antiseptic, warm water and some towels." Mycroft barked into his intercom before coming to stand in front of Molly.

"You didn't marry him." He said softly as he noticed her hand bare of rings.

"How could I?" She asked looking up, fresh tears covering her cheeks. "How could I after what you told me? I did something horrible because of y-you, Mycroft. I hurt this perfectly good man. Humiliated all my family, humiliated myself."

Her shoulders fell ever so slightly, her eyes fixing a point on the wall.

He crouched in front of her with the warm water. Molly flinched ever so slightly as he reached for a foot but didn't acknowledge the gesture otherwise.

"I am a runaway bride." She whispered mostly to herself, and Mycroft could see she was mostly having a discussion with herself.

Mycroft couldn't help but wince when he looked at her feet while he was cleaning them. The church was more than two miles away and he could just imagine her running the whole way.

"And all the money his family spent." She added, once he was done cleaning her feet.

"It's okay. I'll pay them back."

She finally looked at him, her eyes full of tears. "Tell me I didn't make a mistake."

"I love you." He simply stated.

"I love you too." She admitted, blinking to let the tears fall.

Mycroft had to do his best to hide his smile. She was desperate and hurt and heartbroken. He couldn't show how having her here made him happy, not yet anyway.

He kissed her forehead. "Just rest for a while, Molly. Things will be clearer later." He helped her lie down on the sofa he had spent so many nights and covered her with a blanket.

Molly nodded, closing her eyes.

Mycroft sat on the chair across from her, waiting for her to fall asleep. He couldn't believe she was there now, that she chose him after everything.

Once he was sure she was asleep, he reached for his phone, plugged in his headphones and watched the video Sherlock had sent.

It started when the priest asked if anybody was opposed to the wedding with Sherlock whispering "I wished you were here, brother" in the background

When the 'I do' moment came, Tom said a strong and sure 'I do'. Then it was Molly's turn and she remained silent.

"Molly?" Her fiancé tried.

"Do you need me to repeat?" The priest was visibly getting agitated.

Molly shook her head. "He told me he loves me."

"Who did?" Tom asked confused.

"Oh, meat dagger is confused. What a shock. Well played, brother mine." Sherlock whispered in the background followed by a chastising 'Sherlock!' from John Watson.

"I can't. I'm sorry." She said, taking a step back

"Molly, Molly don't do this." Her fiancé begged and even if Mycroft was ecstatic to have her here with him, he couldn't help but feel bad seeing the anguish on his face. He knew only too well how it hurt to lose Molly.

She turned toward the audience. "I-I can't" she exclaimed before kicked her high heels off and sprinting toward the church doors.

Once Molly disappeared from the church, Sherlock turned the telephone toward himself. He was grinning widely. That man really adored his drama.

"I don't know what you did but I want to thank you. This was probably the best present ever. So what now, Mycroft?"

Mycroft stopped the video and looked at Molly thoughtfully. "What I'm going to do, brother, is make Molly Hooper my wife as soon as I can."


End file.
